Jenny's Conch Shell
by USAFChief
Summary: Recovering a misplaced object opens an old, painful wound for Gibbs.


**Disclaimer: Disclaimed  
><strong>

**Jenny's Conch Shell**

Ziva David had just completed a hard two hour workout in the NCIS gym. As she got dressed after her shower, she realized that she needed to return to the MCRT bullpen to retrieve a personal item she wanted to get out of her desk before Tony found it. A letter from Ray…actually a whiney letter from Ray that she would just as soon shred and she would as soon as she got it home. Just as she entered the bullpen from the hallway, she realized that Gibbs was at his desk hunched over something he was holding in both hands and staring at intently. She stood stock still, watching as he raised the item to the right side of his face. As he did, she saw what he was holding – a conch shell. And he was putting it to his ear listening to it. Gibbs held it to his ear for several seconds before returning it to the former position – holding it in both hands.

Ziva broke the silence. "That is Jenny's shell, yes?" She moved around in front of Gibbs and leaned a hip against his desk.

"Mmm…" He gave a slight positive head nod.

"I did not know you had it. I would have recognized it if you kept it on your desk." She hesitated several seconds before going on. "I have seen her put it to her ear at least a hundred times – in just the same way you just did. " Once again she hesitated before continuing. "I first saw it in Cairo when she was hospitalized from a gunshot wound in the thigh during a mission."

**Mossad Field Office, Sick Bay, Cairo, Egypt**

Jenny roused from her drug induced sleep and stared blearily around a small room filled with medicine cabinets and various medical paraphernalia. Her eyes came to rest on her current partner, Ziva David, who was sitting in a straight back chair reading. As Jenny cleared her throat, Ziva looked up.

"You are awake. Good. Can I get you something? Water, perhaps?"

Jenny nodded her head, not trusting her voice. Ziva brought the water in a small paper cup and Jenny downed it on one gulp. "Another, please." When she had sated her thirst, Jenny asked Ziva, "Where are we?"

"In the Mossad field office infirmary in Cairo. You were shot in the left thigh. The bullet passed straight through and seems to have done no damage other than some loss of blood. The major damage was from hitting your head against the wall as you fell."

Jenny realized that she did have one hell of a headache. She reached to her head and felt the bandage that was wrapped completely around her head at forehead level. "Concussion?" she asked?

"The doctor does not think so. Neither eye is abnormally dilated. He said just a major headache for a couple of days, probably."

"Good. Then we can get moving pretty quickly. We still have some bad guys to deal with if I remember right."

Ziva smiled enigmatically, "The bad guys have been handled. All you need to do is rest for another day or two. I have reported your status to your superiors. They will not send anyone at this time. Mossad will take care of you until you are fit for travel, then you can return to England."

"Thank you, Ziva. Were you able to recover my luggage?"

"Yes, I have both bags in my room. Can I bring you something?"

"A pair of pajamas so I can get out of this paper gown would be nice. There's a pair of blue ones in the larger bag. Oh, and while you get them, could you bring me something else?"

"Certainly."

"The is a sea shell, a small conch, in there wrapped in some soft cloths…could you bring it to me, please?"

"Yes, I will." Ziva wondered why Jenny would carry a sea shell with her as she traveled the world, but let it drop from her mind when the acting "nurse" came in with Jenny's lunch – soup (smelled like chicken) with some local bread.

Ziva delivered the requested items within an hour and told Jenny, "I have been asked to make a formal report of the shooting incident to my deputy director. After I have completed it, I will come back here, but it will likely take several hours. Rest and I will see you as soon as I can return, Jenny."

It was just after 1930 local time and Ziva was tired from telling her father how and why and by whom Jenny was shot and what the ramifications might be for the relations between Mossad and NCIS. "Ziva, we need NCIS. They can be useful in the future. Take care of this woman. Be her friend. Help her recover and help her get back home. I know you could not have prevented this incident, but you must assure we do not lose our budding friendship with NCIS!"

So Ziva was prepared to do whatever necessary to make Jenny comfortable and to escort her home as soon as she could travel, but she was unprepared for the sight that greeted her as she entered the make shift infirmary. Jenny was sitting up in the bed, several pillows tucked behind her to make sitting easier, and she had the sea shell placed firmly against her right ear. She had a smile on her face as she sat there. It was as if she were hearing a message from within the shell.

"What do you hear to make you smile, Jenny?"

"I hear my lover's voice, Ziva. My soulmate."

"And what does he say?"

"That I have done well. That he is proud of me. That I will get better soon."

"Does your lover often speak to you in this way?

"I hear his voice every time I put this shell to my ear. That's the reason I carry it with me where ever I go."

"Could you not communicate more easily using a phone?"

"It is not quite as easy as that, Ziva. I left him in Washington D.C. to pursue my career. I don't want him to know where I am, but I still need to hear his voice. I can't call him…but I can hear his voice in this shell."

Perplexed, Ziva asked, "Why would you leave your soulmate to pursue a career? Couldn't you have talked to him about a means to share your work and your relationship?"

"Ummm…he's not exactly the type to talk about relationships…or anything else for that matter." Jenny smiled. "I never told him I think of him as my soulmate. I have been afraid if I said it I would get side tracked from what I want my life to be. I have a plan, Ziva, and it doesn't include having a man weigh me down as I move toward my objective."

"Then why listen to this voice in the shell?"

"It's hard to explain, Ziva. I know he wants the best for me. I know he would encourage me if he could. He didn't say the words when we were together, but when I listen to the shell, I believe I hear his thoughts coming through. It helps me cope and it makes me smile when I hear his voice."

Over the next few days as Ziva helped Jenny pack her bags and get on the flight to England, she noticed that Jenny kept the shell in a place where she could see or touch it, but she only saw Jenny put it to her ear one more time before they parted company outside Jenny's London flat.

"Are you sure you don't want to come in and rest before you start back to Israel, Ziva? I have a spare bedroom you can use tonight."

"I am sure, thank you, Jenny. My orders are to return to Israel quickly for my next assignment. I hope we can work together again. You are a good partner and we seem to be compatible people. I will call you if I come across information that you may need, and if I come through London I will call and perhaps we can have dinner together." Then with a smile she said, "Don't lose that shell. It seems to be lucky for you."

**MCRT Bullpen, Current Day**

"Gibbs, you were that lover Jenny spoke of, yes?"

Gibbs did not reply. He did not move a muscle except to breathe.

"We, your team, know you and Jenny had a history together as you trained her in Europe and as the two of you worked on missions after her training. You have Jenny's shell. You hold it to your ear as she did. Do you hear her voice?"

Gibbs only reply was an abbreviated negative head shake.

"Did you know she considered you her soulmate?"

Gibbs raised his head and looked into Ziva's eyes – his own eyes filled with pain and despair. Once again he gave her the minute negative head shake.

Ziva stood from leaning against his desk. She looked into his eyes for what seemed like an hour. She shook herself as if coming to a decision and said, "Gibbs, you should know that I have stopped seeing Ray. Seeing you with that shell has brought Jenny's decisions into bright focus along with what she gave up to be director. I am giving you notice right now that I am going to find out exactly what I feel for Tony and what he feels for me. You should never have had to create rule twelve and I am going to ignore it. I am going to open my heart and take what comes. You go back to your reveries – I'm going to go find my partner and take him to bed. See you in the morning," and she walked to elevator leaving him alone again.

Gibbs knew he should have responded to Ziva's statement about rule twelve, but he couldn't muster the heat necessary to stop her challenge. He knew he was wallowing in self-pity, fighting a depression that he'd been trying to shake for months – maybe years. His mind went back to the day Jenny gave him the conch shell that currently held his attention.

**MCRT Bullpen, 19 May 2008, 1525 hours**

When Gibbs answered his phone, he was surprised to hear the director's request to come to her office. She usually asked Cynthia to call him. He also caught a hint of tension in her voice. "Wonder what's up," he thought to himself. "Only way to find out is to hike your butt up the stairs, Jethro. Get going." He sorta grinned to himself as he stood…he'd always talked more to himself than he had to others.

"Go right on it, Agent Gibbs, the director is expecting you," said Cynthia as Gibbs walked past her desk. She shook her head at his usual lack of response.

Gibbs walked to the front of Jenny's desk and stood waiting for her to speak to him. She was rotating a small conch shell in her hands. It was about three inches long with the bright orange and tan and off white colors characteristic of the West Indian Fighting Conch. Where he had picked up that bit of trivia he did not recall.

Jenny looked up at him and said, "William Decker died of a heart attack at his home in Los Angeles day before yesterday. Vance's Special Ops guys picked it up off the _L.A. Times_ Obituary Column last night and he called me this morning."

Gibbs said nothing…still looking at Jenny's hands toying with the shell.

"I'm going to fly out tonight for the funeral tomorrow. I'd ask if you wanted to go, but I remember how you and he reacted to one another – oil and water." Jenny hesitated for a moment, then continued, "My normal security detail is in training this week. I'd like to take your team off rotation for the rest of the week and detail Tony and Ziva as security for this trip. They should be prepared to stay for not more than three days. I doubt we will stay that long, but I may decide to spend some quality time with Leon's Special Ops shop before I come back. SECNAV is using his Gulfstream and my request for airlift support to the C-20 flight at Andrews AFB has been denied for lack of availability. So you can tell Tony we'll be flying commercial – coach…no upgrades."

"That it, director?"

"No arguments, Jethro? Aren't you going to tell me why they can't do this?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Good timing. Slow week. DiNozzo can think of this as a reward. That it?"

Jenny shook her head but did not speak for a moment. She looked up at Gibbs. "When I bolted off that airplane when we landed at Dulles, I went straight to another flight to Pensacola. Tom Morrow had set up a whole series of briefings at Pensacola NAS for my next assignment."

Gibbs knew exactly what airplane Jenny was talking about – their return to the U.S. from duty in Italy. Their last assignment together. Lead agent and probie…then partners. Lovers. He felt a jolt of pain at the recollection, but refused to allow his face to show anything.

"It was a tough couple of days, but you had taught me well what questions to ask. How to see the entire picture. How to piece together a strategy." She paused. "I am grateful for what you taught me, Jethro." Another pause. "It was not all work. I had some time to myself. To walk on the beach and reflect and plan. That's where I found this conch shell. Walking on the beach. I was walking down the beach thinking of you and it seemed to just appear in my path. It was full of sand – all crusty with sea salt. But I picked it up and took it back to my room at the Navy Lodge. I washed it off and got the sand out of it and put it on the table next to my bed."

Gibbs could not figure where this story was headed, but he was mesmerized by Jenny's voice and demeanor and didn't interrupt her.

"As I got ready for bed, I picked up the shell and held it to my ear as if I were a girl again. I heard your voice, Jethro." She looked pointedly at him. "Your voice telling me everything would be good. That I was a good agent. That I could do whatever needed doing."

"You were a good agent, Jen."

"Thank you for that, Jethro. But my point is that it was your voice telling me. I knew that it would hurt you for me to leave like I did. With no goodbye. But here you were…telling me I could start and finish something new. I've carried this shell with me all the years since, Jethro. And it has always had your voice in it. I could always hear you talking to me." She stopped and grinned at him, mischievous eyes shining. "Sometimes it was even sexy stuff you told me."

She reflected a moment then continued, "Anyway…I picked it up last night. I had not seen it in several months, but last night I saw it in a desk drawer when I was looking for some envelopes. I put it to my ear…and there was nothing. No voice. No Jethro telling me I was doing okay. Nothing except echoes. I don't know what that means, Jethro. It's scary after all these years to not hear your voice in there."

Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears now. "You take it. Take it for a while and maybe when you give it back to me, it will have your voice again. I don't want it for just a keep-sake reminding me of times passed. You keep it for a while, okay?" She held it out to him with both hands.

He took it, turned and walked out to brief Tony and Ziva about the security detail.

**MCRT Bullpen Current Day**

God, what he wouldn't do to just go back and say something to Jen. Those last words echoed in his brain, "You keep it for a while, okay?"

Okay, he'd kept it for a while. Stuck in the desk drawer where he put it the same day she gave it to him. Why in hell had he gone looking in that drawer today? Why dredge up this anguish? Hadn't he spent enough time grieving over Jenny already? Almost without volition he put the shell to his ear again. Still nothing but white noise, the faint whoosh…nothing more.

"Goddam it, Jenny! Is this all there is?"

His question still echoes through the ages for all lost loves and lost lovers.


End file.
